My running has been sporadic over the past few months. I was blaming that on my fooorever long commute, but since moving to KC three weeks ago, I still wasn’t feeling it. For some reason, Taylor Swift’s “Love Story” as my alarm doesn’t help me vault out of bed. And if I don’t work out in the morning, it’s probably not happening. I am SO a morning person. Last week, I changed my alarm. Nickelback. Just about anything from their Dark Horse CD makes me jump out of bed. Problem solved, and I am back on the wagon. It’s a good thing too – I unpacked my scale this week. Of course, given that I’m taller than I thought, that number isn’t really as bad as it could be – I’m only six pounds off from the range that I give myself. Give me a month and I’ll be back on track. For now, I’m just extra bootylicious. That’s hardly a bad thing.

This morning I talked my roommate into going with me. Let’s call her Juarez – that’s where her family’s from, but it’s not her real name. (Roommates are almost family, but they get some level of protection. Come on, that’s only fair, right? Reece wishes he was my roommate.) We’ve actually got another roommate who will be joining us in a few short weeks and we can’t wait! Maybe we’ll rope her into early mornings too. It’s always more fun to run with someone else. Even when you’re not running “together.” (That wasn’t a problem today. Juarez is shorter than SixFour.)

Take a look at how beautiful it is out there in those early morning hours. Care to join us?

My MOM is the baddest bad apple in our house. Since she wasn’t born a Christensen, I can still claim to be the baddest bad apple of the Christensen family. (Like that argument? It’s a little flimsy for a lawyer, but I’ll argue it anyway.) We all love her. You want reasons? We’ve got them. And much like the Alisha post, this is from everyone.

• She dances in the kitchen.
• And in the living room.
• And in her studio.
• And anywhere else. What can we say? She’s got rhythm, and when she hears a good song, she can’t help but move. It’s a trait she passed on. Everyone dances at our house. Except Dad. Obviously, he was not so lucky to have Mom pass on that gene to him. It just doesn’t work that way.
• She’s fun to sit on.  In fact, this is Reece’s favorite thing to do. I’m not positive that it’s Mom’s favorite thing, but she humors him. She even tells him he’s her favorite child. That is, of course, a lie. *I* am her favorite child.
• She’s a rockstar. Especially after she gets her hair done. And yes, she can totally do the headbanging moves. If you’ve ever seen Alisha or Cassie, this is also a genetic trait.
• She let us have cake on Sunday for breakfast when I was growing up. You know, so we’d look forward to Sundays. Since we couldn’t play outside or do other weekday sort of things, it was definitely a bonus. Sometimes we’d have ice cream instead of cake. And sometimes we’d have both. (And sometimes we still do that sort of thing. We love Sundays at our house.)
• She’s an excellent painter. And she’s used us for models for a lot of her paintings. Except for Logan and Reece, who are not quite as beautiful as the rest of us. Or they just won’t hold still long enough. You be the judge.
• She’ll stay up all night talking to us. Or she’ll stay up all night working on a project. She’s a night owl. I definitely did NOT get that gene. Samantha and Reece, on the other hand, definitely got it. Jealous.
• She loves our Dad. Like crazy. We know, who wouldn’t?

You can see, there are all sorts of reasons that she’s the baddest bad apple. We could keep going, but we’d be at it all day. And since it’s Mother’s Day, we’re trying to spend a little bit of it with her. We love her. What more can we say?

• “What are those, pigs?” – Mom, the country girl. Not. We were driving past a field with a lot of GOATS in it when she asked the question. Granted, Mom was driving. But how do you get PIGS confused with GOATS?
• “I see all the cow faces and it reminds me of Barry.” – Jessie (19), the REAL country girl, aka NOT Mom. Jessie works at a dairy (where she sees cow faces) and Barry is her boyfriend. Barry’s on a two-year mission in Fresno, California. Maybe he should be worried if Jessie’s reminded of him when she sees COWS. PS – Barry is not nickname-protected because Jessie has his real name on her own blog. Plus I don’t know what nickname we would use for him. “Jessie’s COWboy” would maybe work, given that she sees cow faces and thinks of him.
• “You are not even CLOSE to a cow.” – Reece (16), the king of compliments. You know him as the Cowboy Casanova, but he can have more than one title. I was trying to figure out how much our cows weighed… when I said 125 (which is what I weigh) he informed me of the above “fact.” Oh – and at the time I said that, our cows weighed probably 300-350 lbs. Maybe 400 lbs.  Maybe I have a misconception about how 125 lbs looks. (And maybe Jessie should take a cue from Reece so that Barry doesn’t cry when he realizes that Jessie thinks of him when she sees cow faces.)
• “When you turn 25, then you’ll be an antique!” – Samantha (11), commenting on my upcoming birthday in August. I wonder what that makes Dad (who hit the big 5-0 last October).  How do you get better- or older-  than “antique”?
• “Dad, when you’re too old to remember, I’m going to sell the house and buy an RV. Then I’m going to take you all sorts of places.” – Cassie (almost 10), when talking about her “assignment” as the youngest child. That assignment? She’s taking care of them in their old age. We all voted, and she got the job. Maybe Dad should rethink that one. Unless he wants to go all sorts of places.

Can you see why I’m always laughing? Oh. Maybe you didn’t realize I’m always laughing. Trust me, it’s hard to stop with a family as fun as mine. I totally love them. And I’ve gotta admit – it’s a real relief to know that I’m nothing close to a cow, even if I’m going to be an antique soon.

Unfortunately, that works even if it’s only a four point victory. Take a look.

And now the shocker. This. Wasn’t. Mom. And no one beats me except Mom. (And annoying online people I’ve never met named nanda93 and MessMaker.) This. Was. T2.

Let me explain. T2 and I play games online for date nights. Being far apart forces you to be resourceful. It’s all worked out – I kill him at scrabble and he slaughters me at chess. That’s how we roll. Kind of an unwritten agreement. Except now it’s written down here, so I guess you could call it a written agreement. And T2 totally threw it out the window today. It started with him laying down “HOBBIES.” Who knew it would be worth 42 points? I’m lucky it was only a four point victory. It’s so NOT happening again.

PS – In all fairness, I probably threw out our (un)written agreement before T2. I beat him in chess today. Twice. In a row. Boo-ya.

There IS a cool story behind my love of calla lilies. (It doesn’t involve dead ones, don’t worry!) When I was around 14, my church group had an activity for moms and daughters. The moms were asked to identify a flower that reminded them of their daughters and talk a little bit about it. My mom went above and beyond. (If you know my mom, that is no surprise.) My mom chose a calla lily for me – and she brought a beautiful silk calla lily with her, along with a whole letter about why calla lilies reminded her of me. (No, you can’t read it. Mostly because I can’t find it right now. I think it’s in an old journal somewhere.)

Anyway, back to lilacs. Of all the flowers that grow in Missouri, lilacs are my favorite. They come in the most beautiful colors, can grow as bushes or trees (and are equally gorgeous either way!), smell absolutely divine… AND I just discovered a whole bunch of them blooming in my postcard. (Notice the transition… I’m totally claiming Loose Park as “mine” now.) What a great life.

At first we said we’d have a “girls night plus Wade.” He quickly corrected us – we were going to have a “girls night plus THE MAN.” And we did – a little popcorn, a movie, cupcakes and some nail polish. (The Man skipped out on the nail polish.)

This isn’t the first time this week that Wade has cracked me up. Mom and I were hanging out at the table while all the boys were being their usual crazy selves.  I said we needed to think of a word to describe them – without skipping a beat, Wade had one. “Sexy.” And then he walked out of the room.

Can I just tell you I love my life? Really, how could I not?

My first memories of Valentine’s Day involved special Valentines on our kitchen table surrounded by great treats. (Thanks Mom!) For a couple of years, I didn’t realize that Valentine’s Day was a “romantic love” sort of holiday – I just thought it was a day where everyone made sure to tell the people they loved that they loved them. Really, you should be doing that on a pretty regular basis – how sad would it be if you saved all your telling for one day a year?!? I know that I’d never have enough time to make sure that everyone I loved knew it.

In the spirit of the holiday, this Monday night my siblings, mom and I spent the night making hearts for each other. (Dad is in Brazil, or he would have been making them too, don’t worry. He still likes us. Why on earth do you think he goes to work every other month?) We put them up on the doors in our house so that we’d all remember how much we love each other. (Kind of like texting - except better.)

Here are a few of my favorites…

Is it any wonder I heart my family?

It’s a complex process, but it’s not just her paintings that are complex. Most things in this world come in shades of gray, because people are complex too. Wouldn’t it be unfortunate if you were so inflexible that you never recognized there was anything but black and white? (At any rate, it would certainly kill the grisaille method.)

In my professional life, I deal in grays all the time. Granted, my work isn’t the same as my mom’s, but work with me here – I didn’t get those creative painting genes, so I’m doing my best with what I’ve got.  Of course, in order to really grasp the grays, you’ve got to understand the rules that come with black and white. That’s just common sense. But when I’m at work (or anywhere else!) I remember that grays exist, and that’s part of what makes this life so interesting. The next time you’re out and about, take a look at the grays. You just might surprise yourself at what you find.

*PS – Notice my mom’s shirt is gray? Oh yeah, I totally planned that. Well, actually I didn’t. But I thought it was cool anyway.

TRUE LOVE.  YOU THINK THIS HAPPENS EVERY DAY?

My parents are still crazy in love and I think it’s the best thing ever. 27 years of marriage and 8 kids haven’t changed that – if you asked, I think they’d tell you it’s even better than they imagined. (Well, at least some days they’d tell you that.) Whether the quote’s from Princess Bride or not – my parents have that love story beat.

Oh – and I couldn’t help putting up this next pic. My mom sometimes sings an old song called “Hopelessly Devoted To You.” (My dad does not sing. Except in Church.) This picture makes me think of that song.

One of the greatest things my parents ever did for us was to stay in love with each other. We always knew that my mom came before any of the rest of us (in my dad’s eyes) and that the same was true about my dad in my mom’s eyes. Whoever thought second place could be so good?

At Church this week, the speaker talked about how happiness is a byproduct of gratitude. It’s really made me focus on all the things I’m grateful for – after all, I LIKE being happy! It’s totally worked. It’s been a good week.

I started to write a list of all the things I’m grateful for. It got too long. Like, crazy long. So instead of boring you with all the details (like how grateful I am for the brilliant blue bathmats I have in my bathroom, complete with matching towels), I thought I’d share some thoughts I’ve had about the things I’m grateful for.

I realized that the things I am most grateful for in my life can’t be bought. They actually aren’t “things” at all. They are people. And people are irreplaceable. There is nothing that beats being able to be the big sister who comes home on the weekends to curl your 9 and 10 year-old sisters’ hair. Or being able to play cards with your crazy family until midnight and not even noticing the time. Or being able to watch your brothers grow up and learn to be men. It’s fantastic to have girlfriends who you can laugh (and cry) with. It’s so nice to have guy friends you can dance with (and who will move furniture for you). It’s amazing to have professional associates who will send you examples of things you’ve never done before. People rock.

Things are just that – things. Even though they might make life more enjoyable sometimes, they don’t love you back.  And yes, I hear some of you saying your Audi loves you back. Trust me – it’s got nothing on the people I know.